


Find Me

by Fireloom



Series: Sex, Drugs and Chemical Defects [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adlock, F/M, Poetry, adlock yacht, ish, season 4 hype
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 21:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11494956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fireloom/pseuds/Fireloom
Summary: Little poetry-esue drabble I wrote in the season 4 hype. Adlock.





	Find Me

The subtle, warm shine of embers glowing red in the charred-black fireplace cast dancing hues over the figure strikingly pacing about the room. Fingers splay over the fretless board of precious violin pressed to his shoulder, and bow twirls against the instrument by manipulation of hand trained and tuned to the delicacies of music. A song trills from the strings with fanciful elegance. The walls of Baker Street’s apartment 221B soaks the notes into their papered confines and carries the tune down to the landlady in apartment below, while the open window lets free the song upon the flocks of drunken weekenders, some of which stop in their hobbled stride to pay audience to the composer above as he laments his Magnum Opus.

The song is interrupted after an indefinable stretch of time by the sound of lurid text alert. The chords scratch jarring end to the song as fine horsehair, stretched thin, is pulled along string and then away. The phone is retrieved and message read by eyes adept in the art of observation… Fingers precise and calculating rapidly type a reply to bring smirk to lips only used for speech until tonight. The message is sent and phone placed back down.

The room no longer carries notes of lament written from the throws of sentimental attachment but instead, the sounds of hurried packing. In minutes the flat is left empty of song, or sound, or voice. The only life gracing the room is the dimming coals of flames long since died down, and the bright light of messages displayed on the screen flickering with the oscillation of LED pixels. Words dictate the promise of affection bordering on even love, until they fade away with the automatic timing out and relocking of the device.

< “Find me.”

“I’m coming.” >


End file.
